


GT's Short One-Shot Stuff

by GreatTornado



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 00:54:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11817813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreatTornado/pseuds/GreatTornado
Summary: this is where all my s i n goes





	GT's Short One-Shot Stuff

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I realise that this isn't _technically_ Slender, it's more Slender-inspired but who cares ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Protip: Listen to this while reading - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-heSRbvCErU

**“Slender but instead of Slenderman it’s Korekiyo”**

You’re running. Running where? Anywhere. It doesn’t matter where you run. You catch a taste of the cold, damp air with every breath. You want to stop. Your legs are tired, but your heart is racing at a hundred miles a minute. You desperately glance up in the sky in a futile attempt at a reprieve. Maybe a God will find mercy and aid you. It doesn’t matter which God. You’d pray to all of them in that moment if you had the chance. But you don’t. You can’t stop running. What are you running from? You don’t know. Or more precisely; You’re running from the unknown. You’ve heard stories, of course. Everyone had heard them. But you thought those stories were exactly that: just a tale of the past, evolved via a chain of Chinese whispers into the legend that it is today.  
You quickly snap your head to look behind you. There’s nothing but the soft and moist dirt that you’ve just trodden over, and an army of trees that you’ve just darted from. Your body can’t take it anymore. You need to take a break, get your bearings. You try to calm down by counting your breaths. One… two… three… four…

_Snap!_

Your body suddenly becomes alerted to your surroundings. Just how long have you been standing around for? A minute? Ten? An hour, even? It doesn’t matter. You take a deep breath and continue running. But between the rapid steps of your sneakers hitting the soil, you notice quieter, methodical footsteps from somewhere in the distance. Adrenaline is pumping all throughout your body. You have to run. 

You’re speeding through the forest now, but the trees never seem to end. Those methodical footsteps are still trailing behind you, but even though you try to ignore it you know that they’re catching up to you. Running is all you can do now. Your heart feels like it’ll burst out of your chest at any moment. 

The footsteps are catching up. 

You want to run, but your body is slowing down. You feel bile start to accumulate in your esophagus, but you push down that sick feeling and keep on running. Your mind starts to wonder: What will happen if he catches you? Will he kill you? How? Will he keep you alive while he severs you limb from limb? What if he starts by gouging your eyeballs out? What if he makes you eat your own eyeballs?

You try to push away those intruding thoughts, but you’ve been reduced to a slow jog. Those thoughts flood back into your mind as you hear the snaps of twigs and crunches of leaves. He’s close. You don’t want to accept your fate. You have to keep running. But you’ve heard things. About the anthropologist who lived in these woods. You’ve heard what he’s done. A small voice creeps up from the corner of your mind.

“You knew you shouldn’t have come here.”

The voice is quiet at first, drowned out by your primal instincts.

“You knew you wouldn’t be safe.”

“You knew what would happen if he found you.”

The voice, although not raising its volume, becomes increasingly audible. It becomes so loud, that you’ve even started ignoring the sound of footsteps creeping up behind you.

“You knew about his deeds.”

“You knew that he’s a serial killer.”

Wait a minute… those aren’t your thoughts, are they? 

You’ve lived in the area all your life, but you always heard that he only had one victim. A young girl, her body found several years ago. You didn’t notice it at first, but those footsteps had stopped a short while ago.

You realise what’s happening and try to run, but a strong grip holds you in your place. You kick, and shout and scream, but you’re not moving. You hear him move his mouth up to your ear, and only now do you realise where that voice had been coming from.

 

“Kukuku…”


End file.
